The Forgotten Who Lived
by DarthMomo
Summary: Sequel to To Forget is To Die. Suki has finally returned to the states, but the memories of the last few months that she spent with Ivan won't leave her. And after confronting Alfred about it, she no longer even knows what to think anymore.


A!N (Suki): Whaa, and update? How in the world is that POSSIBLE?...XD Well, the story is back, with a whole new sleugh of problems for all the characters to deal with. I would more like to call this next part an 'Arc' rather than 'sequel' but hey, Momo called it a sequel, and I'll be cool and roll with that B-I

**Russia** was played by Momo

**America** was played by Momo

**Suki** was played by Suki

**We both really hope you all enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it! Remember to always review, as they are utter love for both of us!**

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><p><strong> Chapter 1: Reunions Aren't Always Sweet<br>( Воссоединения не всегда сладкие )**

Step. Ouch. Step. Ouch. Every movement with her body was another pain in her, jabbing, biting, and stinging through her legs and spine. It had to be one of Suki's more painful days (Russia had 'forgotten' yet again to put that tingly cream on her healing wounds that would help with the pain). But a glorious day it was, a day that the woman had long been looking forward to.

After a month, no-two months of living with Russia, 'recovering' from her horrible injury that had taken place early in her stay, the woman was finally home. It took so much time, so much effort and will to finally have returned to the land which she loved so damn much. And in the oddest of ways did she finally return home. Not the literal way, no, for she had simply boarded a Russian plane and flew for nearly a full day to step upon the lovely hard ground of her beloved USA (the place that didn't try to break her bones and nearly suffocate her on a daily basis).

Suki had been cleaning; well, an attempt of cleaning. Her leg had healed…somewhat. She could walk on crutches with a fair amount of ease, so staying in bed in the lofty, large mansion was soon a problem for her (if Suki had to stare at the walls for another moment it seemed, she would go even more crazy than she already was). So for the past week she had taken on simple household chores. Dishes mostly they were, though, considering it was just Russia and her who ate (well, if he remembered to feed her; he had the tendency to forget). But it was something to do, something to keep her mind off the despair and woe that plagued the young woman's mind.

And then suddenly, one day out of the blue, Russia had approached her while she did her few dishes in the large basin sink of his simple kitchen. "Сукй is leaving to go back to her stupid country now, да?" And he hadn't given her much time to even ponder it before they were already boarding a plane. A plane destined for Washington. And even then, as she was sitting in the cool seat of the Russian airliner, the woman simply couldn't come to terms with the realization that her nightmare might be over. She was going home. But why?

Suki learned to stop asking Russia about it quickly, for every time she did at first, he merely responded with a curt Russian word (and after two months living with him, even Suki didn't understand what it meant) and a broad, fake smile. So for the many hours of flight, she pondered on the mystery, entertaining herself with what the reason could be for her sudden, but completely wanted journey home. Did Alfred finally remember her? Did he finally realize that she was gone far longer than was supposed (For her entire trip was supposed to last two weeks, at most)? The thought almost caused tears in the woman's blue eyes. Yes, that must have been it. Her boss finally remembered her, and was being the hero he always proclaimed in being for so long. And though she knew it would anger the Russian, as Suki understood the odd obsession he felt in keeping her eternally in his country, Suki couldn't stop smiling the entire trip home.

She was finally going home.

The young secretary stood there in the lobby of the airport, one bag in each hand, while crutches were awkwardly placed under her arms to keep her steady. The girl didn't care if her gait was odd, or her movement was choppy, she just wanted to get home, nice and safe in her office with her boss and awkward friend. From the very moment she had stepped outside the boarding gate with the Russian, her eyes were already on the prowl, hungry and anxious to find the man whose face she had been willing to see for a long two months.

Alfred was heard before he was seen, the red-head's ears picking up on his voice almost instantly, like a godsend in hell (it was oddly more of a literal phrase than symbolic, unfortunately enough…). And Suki, standing there with a look of blank surprise, couldn't have been any more happy to see such a sight. Blue eyes that gleamed, blond hair that shined. Suddenly her boss, the silly man that Suki had worked under for almost two years, seemed like the bright, shining light at the end of the tunnel, one that had held nearly two months of a bruising mixture of nightmares and affectionate words.

"HEEEYYyyy!" America joyously greeted, waving his arms to get her attention. His smile widened as he saw her gaze direct on him, though faltered as he saw the crutches and her scratched up face. Walking up to her and Russia who was accompanying closely behind, he asked the fellow country ," Hey man, what happened?" Well at least Russia seemed happy enough, nothing that bad could have happened.

Russia smiled and shook America's hand as it was offered and said," Oh nothing much, Сукй just learned more about my culture. It was fun." As he retracted his hand, he placed it on Suki's shoulder and gripped tightly.

Suki cringed slightly at the combination of Alfred's high voice, and Russia's grip on her shoulder. Both were painful, but only one single feeling was a comfort to her. She was home and grateful. Memories still laced with her mind, the girl taking a few tentative steps forwards, both to get closer to her friend and boss, and to get away from Russia. God, she just wanted to get away from him. Her body still hurt after all that pain and breaking. She wanted to scream, wanted to yell, wanted to accuse her...her own boss and friend, someone she trusted, the one that had knowingly sent her to Russia's home and didn't seem to have a care in the world for how she would come back.

"I'll tell you what happened, I-" The young girl stopped herself short. "...I had an awesome time..." Logic at least had not left her; she just couldn't blurt out everything, as painful as it was deep inside to keep it hidden. Russia was right behind her. Russia could hurt her. He had before. Even in all his kind words and careful actions that were probably meant to be loving and affectionate, Suki still couldn't rid herself of the wounds that adorned her body like a Dalmatian, ones that, most likely, would always leave ugly scars.

"Really? That's awesome," He said, wrapping his arms around her small frame in a big, friendly hug. "I missed youuu, you have no idea! I was so happy when Sara said you were coming back today! I had kinda forgot that I sent you to Russia." He laughed and added," Oh, and thanks again, Ivan, for taking care of her."

"Oh да, anytime," Russia replied with a demur smile. "I mean it. Anytime."

Suki shivered once, praying that Russia would just let go of her, metaphorically, just allow her to finally be back home and feel safe. Yes, safe, that was a word she hadn't felt in quite a long time. She wanted to go home and enjoy being there, with her family and friends. Though she was weak and barely able, Suki returned the hug, letting the crutches fall to the ground with loud clangs as she tried to bury her face into Alfred's chest, not letting a sob loose from her lips, but she could feel the tears of pain invisibly roll down her cheeks.

"Woah there, you okay?" America asked, surprised by Suki, usually one to just laugh and avoid his sometimes overly friendly gestures, hugging him so intently.

"She's fine," Russia quickly supplied," Was just suffering so much homesickness." Rubbing Suki's head fondly, he cooed," I will see you again, little girl. You can be sure of it." Redirecting his attention to America, he finished with," I would stay longer if I could, but sadly I am due for a very important meeting tomorrow. До скорой встречи." With a small wave, he was off to catch a soon arriving plane.

"Yeah, totally understand. See ya' too," America said, waving goodbye, still holding Suki tightly with one arm. "Seriously, what's up?" He asked the woman in his arms, his rare sincere concern coming through. Oh crap, she wasn't crying was she? He hated when girls cried, he always felt like a totally lame hero. How many times did you see Lois Lane cry?

"I-Is he gone?" Suki asked in fear, trying so desperately to lace it over with a calm voice. She sadly, failed. She didn't care if it wasn't normal, or out of bounds; she needed somebody to hug her, to reinforce that she wasn't in that hell anymore, but somewhere familiar, warm, and kind. She felt her eyes start to lose the hold they had on her tears, the salty taste invading her mouth more with every, now more hearable sobs. "Please tell m-me he's gone."

"W-wha? Y-yeah, he's gone! Don't cry!" He quickly, almost very loudly, replied. Rubbing her back and trying to soothe her, he restated," He's gone, he's gone! Why are you crying?" One to overreact, he didn't sound very soothing, more panicked and without a clue of what to do. He had been a little concerned when Sara told him she was returning from Russia, (he may have slightly forgotten that he sent her there in the first place) but Russia and him were pals now, surely nothing happened. Maybe he was wrong.

"Dammit Alfred!" The girl screamed, probably a little too loud in such a place. "That- that monster hurt me!" She pulled away suddenly, her blue eyes deep in a harsh anger. Suki was barely hanging on Alfred now, only her hands grabbing into the material of his jacket for balance. Tears welled behind her eyes as horrid memories came to her, memories of pain and trauma that the Russian man had forced onto her. "Russia broke my leg, my ribs, and my wrist-twice!" She stuttered on for a few seconds more, until she seemed to give up on even that, sobbing to herself before shoving Alfred away. "YOU LET RUSSIA NEARLY KILL ME!" She stumbled for just a bit, unsteady on her feet, until the short girl fell loudly against the floor, still unable to stand or walk without assistance.

Feeling eyes drawn, he shouted," Don't worry, I'm a doctor!" He winced as he realized that probably only drew more attention. She had very publicly addressed Russia as a person, which he was, but how did he cover that up? And she addressed him as Alfred! She almost never called him by _just_his first name; she always preferred 'Mr. Jones' over all else, polite girl she was. "We'll talk about this later, I promise," he whispered, his lips near her ear as he immediately bent down and scooped her up with one arm. Gathering the crutches with his free hand, he rose to his feet, quickly making his way to the black car waiting outside for him. Remembering the whole calling a nation as a person thing, he blurted," She's going to be fine, just a lil' delusional, or some big word like that. A-okay."

The entire time she was carried was just a blur to her, a mismatch of colors, gasps, and voices. Suki didn't bother to open her eyes either in that time, simply feeling the sensation of being picked up. She struggled at first, the larger body horridly reminding her of the man that had done her so much harm, but within seconds, she realized different. It was Mr. Jones, the woman knew, just by the way he held her, gentle and kind, that was, if his voice afterwards wasn't a dead giveaway. It wasn't Russia's…Ivan's…..It wasn't THAT man's arms around her then, wasn't the arms that hurt her only to help her minutes later, not the same arms and caused a bolt of fear through her entire soul with their icy touch. When they finally got in the car, the young woman felt herself laid inside, carefully placed as if she was a glass doll. But she didn't care, the tears were still falling, and the memories weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

America sat beside her, buckling her seat belt for her then his own. Signaling the confused driver to start the trip to the hotel Suki was to stay at, he returned his attention to his secretary. She looked miserable, and he had a feeling it was his fault. Keeping mind that the driver could overhear anything said, America ventured that complementing her might help and not cross confidential lines. "Uh, nice dress, Suki," he tried, struggling to smile for one of the few times in his life. It was a pretty dress, a dark purple long sleeve dress with pink accents and a bell skirt. It kind of looked like Japan's lolita fashion or something; America wasn't really sure, he didn't much time obsessing over fashion stuff. For some reason he didn't hold much confidence in the comment being received well if Suki even acknowledged it.

"Nice...dress...?" Suki whispered after a few idle moments of muffled sobs, her face pulling out from her covering hands in anger. She glared at the other, and then pointed out a finger at him, nearly poking him painfully in the chest. "It's the only thing HE let me wear! He MADE me wear this...these...GOD!" And within seconds she was sobbing in her hands, trying so desperately to forget everything. So her boss wasn't going to be any help, and she had few people to speak with personally. Great. She was pretty much damned with the terrible memories, since not even the closest person to her, her boss, even seemed to care. "Leave me alone." She growled, moving far across the seats, as much as the seat belt would allow, away from the blond. It was HIS fault after all, sending her to a metaphorical (and literal) kill zone.

"I- I'm sorry..." his voice was quiet and sincere, his face showing how upset he was like an open book. This never happened to the heroes, more accurately, the heroes weren't supposed to screw up this bad. "I'm sorry, I didn't know, I-..." How could fix this? He didn't like anyone to be mad at him, except England but that guy didn't count, especially someone who'd worked so diligently for him. Seriously, she deserved some kinda medal for work ethic. She hadn't missed a day of work unless it was mandatory for the last two years. That was kind of off topic, but point was America wanted to make her feel better, he felt terrible for putting her through whatever he exactly did.

"Don't," The woman firmly cut him off, biting off the end of a sob with great mental strength. She had to keep some restraint of her body, though a few more pained cries still fell past the filters. "Y-you don't even know what h-he did, so just don't say you're sorry..." Didn't he get a little bit of hinting from her broken leg? Her crutches? Not even from the odd way she breathed, so much louder and uneven than a person normally did? Did he...did he just NOT see any of that? The mere thought made the woman want to start sobbing all over again.

The hope of a warm and accepted warm welcome home, one where she'd be pulled back into the soft, gentle warms of normal society that held logic and reason suddenly shattered before her very eyes. In some way, she almost horribly thought that it wouldn't have made much difference if she was back in Russia anyway. Granted, the girl also knew she wasn't being entirely fair.

America obediently shut up, knowing everything he did was just making things worse. Silence took over the atmosphere, awkwardly clinging to the air. He was about to ask if the driver would turn on some music, then thought better of it just in time. Instead, the blonde just fidgeted uneasily, looking over at his friend periodically hoping to find her in a better mood.

Suki simply stared out the window as the car drove on, the soft hum of the engine seeming to calm her, slightly, though not far enough for her to even think about talking to her boss. It was his fault, she figured, his entire fault, so why did she need to bother even speaking to him? And he didn't even seem to realize that she was hurt, didn't even seem to call attention to how painfully she walked, how her fear obviously came from HIM; she covered her face with one last confused sob. Suki just wanted to go home, or in her case, the hotel.

Their car pulled into a fancy hotel's parking lot, letting America and Suki out by the door before driving off to find a parking spot. America practically jumped out of the car, seconds before it could even come to a full stop. Rushing to the other side, he opened Suki's door and offered a hand so she could steady herself while trying to get crutches out. Millions of unanswered questions ran through his head, interrupting the usual buzz of casual thoughts. They were questions he couldn't ask in public however; and he hoped she could forgive his wait over asking in more detail what happened. That was assuming she even wanted to talk to him ever again.

Suki hesitantly allowed herself to be led by the man, careful not to trip or fall with each step she took across the hard floor. She didn't want to be near the man, but knew the urgency in which she really did need him, mostly for balance purposes. Her mind screamed for her to accuse the man of all the grave injustices he knowingly or unknowingly put her through, all the broken bones and bloody injuries she had to endure, just for a hairband.

**JUST** for a hairband.

He smiled warmly as she accepted the assistance, opening the door for her as she got her crutches under her and could walk by herself. Checking them in and getting a room key, he led them to her room. America winced as he realized it was on the fifth floor, but at least there were elevators. The silence was unbearable. America found himself fighting every urge to say something, but it wasn't like he could say what he wanted to until they were somewhere private and his attempt at small talk had failed epically.

Suki was silent the entire elevator ride to her room. Her face was no longer pained, though there was still the occasional ache in her leg and chest when she moved wrongly. Tear-stains, red and puffy, trailed down her face from her just prior sobbing, but the girl didn't show any evidence of doing so now. She lost the will to even cry; already assuming that Alfred just wouldn't understand her situation when they got to her door. He stood there, just stood there with a grin while Russia was behind her, acting lik-like he never laid a f-finger on her? How could he?

_He still doesn't know Suki_, a small, quiet voice told her. It was true. He didn't know, and there she was, fuming pissed that he 'couldn't understand'? She suddenly felt sick to her stomach with guilt in her so unfair thoughts for her boss. Alfred….M-Mr. Jones probably didn't even know anything that had happened to her while she was gone, maybe little more than the simple fact that she had completed her goal to deliver that damned letter and package.

Suki sighed; she couldn't blame him, at least, not for his confusion and lack of apparent understanding. Slowly, the bubbling emotions of fear, pain and despair eased off into a dull, but manageable simmer in her heart.

Suki walked in silence as they approached the door, wondering quietly, if the man should even know what happened. Maybe things would be better if she didn't say anything, understanding to what the Russian man had told her before she left. That grip he held upon her limb as he carefully explained, with that ever so fake smile, that he would be back for her, that he wouldn't stand for anyone, especially 'that capitalist pig' to know about their 'lovely' time together. That nearly broken arm was quite convincing with those words, after all.

He sighed in relief as the elevator dinged, letting him know that they were finally close to her room. The blonde slid their keycard to open room 532, the door unlocking for a short period of time. As the door closed behind them he scouted the room for signs of being bugged, maybe he'd seen too many spy movies recently, before saying," Suki, I'm so sorry for what he did to you. When I saw you in crutches I figured you fell down the stairs or something... I didn't know, still don't really, what Ivan did..." Remembering she'd addressed Russia by his nation's name, the nation must have filled her in more than he himself had so far, he made a mental note he could use Russia's country name in the future.

And maybe that was for the best of things. The young woman sat silently on the bed, having to hobble on one uncertain leg for a long few seconds to get there. Hands over her dreary face, Suki wasn't even sure if telling the man was a good idea, the consequences of the relationship between America and Russia playing a huge toll in her mind (Granted that was if Alfred cared enough about her). So, instead of answering, Suki avoided the apology completely, wanting to discuss something of far worse mental allusions.

"I'm not surprised that you don't, considering your diplomatic ties to him in this century, *America*." her eyes rose with her voice, turning fiercely to stare the blond down, the tearstains still throbbing a painful red on her cheeks. "…I know it's not just a government title…" her voice grew soft as she carried on with a sigh, hand rising slightly to rub at her aching eyes. She could accept that he wouldn't understand her injuries at first.

Suki couldn't, however, accept such a lie that was kept from her, something so odd, so out of place that it didn't matter if she wouldn't have believed it if Alfr-…Mr. Jones had told it to her straight up. It didn't honestly matter; she had learned the full expanse of their non-human existence from Russia, and felt like she should have known, or at least, wanted to learn it from….America, and not the colder man, the one who had kept her for so long, the one that she could barely think straight just envisioning.

"Uhh, there's a really good reason for why he might have called me America. It's not like I'm... Well, ahh," America stumbled over his words, trying to decide whether he should confirm knowledge like that to a human. She obviously knew, he realized. Russia probably told her, and he'd slipped a few times himself. "Yeah, so I kinda am America and Russia 'n I are on pretty good terms right now... I didn't think that he..." He came over and sat on the bed beside her.

Suki flinched, felt her own body cringe away from the man. It was a reaction, she unable to control it, even if her feelings at the moment were different anyways. Her mind flashed to a memory with Russia as she shied away, the horrendous, ghostly form of the large man where Alfred then sat. After letting her mind realize she was back home again, the young woman sighed, daring to look in the man's eyes for even a moment. But she had to tell him now, whether it was wrong or not, she had to tell him what that...that monster did to her, good ally or not. The girl stuttered lightly. "H-he did a lot...m-my leg and...and..." and she couldn't continue, her own mouth betraying her.

No, she couldn't tell it; it was all just too much. The words of her heart and mind mingled with the ghostly whispers of memory from Russia's final words to her. She couldn't tell. Instead, Suki decided to show him. The girl moved her arms, quickly undoing the ribbons and buttons of the top of her dress. It no longer mattered to her; she had bandages and a bra underneath anyways. It was the only way she'd be able to explain the pain and trauma that was forced on her body for the last two months.

He was first alarmed that his secretary was stripping down right in front of him, but that alarm was quickly replaced with horror at all the injuries riddling her pale skin. Her ribs looked wrapped along with some serious gashes. The other more minor cuts and the bruises were left unbandaged. He reached out a hand to her welted skin, his mouth gaping as he stared at the reddened and purpled skin. "O-oh my... Suki!" His eyes stared into hers, crestfallen and disbelieving. He'd seen lots of action and horror movies, and been through quite a few wars, but... America was reminded of Lithuania, his heart twisting painfully in sudden sickness and guilt. "I- I'm s-so sorry...!" Pulling away, America wrapped his head in his hands muttering," I'm so sorry, so sorry..."

Suki felt herself flinch as his hand drew near her, light pain sounding from even the simplest of touches. Though many of her wounds were healing, some faster than others, there were still many spotting bruises on her body that had yet to start healing on her. But what hurt her the most, torn her in two, was watching her boss, her...friend, his words aching softly as he apologized over and over again. Suki, who had been used to the scars and such, didn't know how to respond. She had been pissed, angry, intending on accusing Alfred of the horrendous ignorance he had towards her condition, but this...The woman just didn't know. She gazed to the ground.

"D-Don't apologize. You weren't the one who broke my wrist, leg, and any other bone in my body..." She whispered with venom, not to Alfred, but her mind dwelling on that MONSTER who did it all to her. That….that man….Her thoughts lingered on him for longer than was needed, trying to conjure an image that would solidify her words, but she only envisioned his smiling face, remembering oh so ironically the few moments where he was tender to her, the very few in which he was kind. But he hurt her; it was perfectly alright to be angry!...Yet, the girl, though was who-knew-how-many-miles away from him and his painful influence, couldn't bring herself to hate him anymore than she could to try and map out his intentions and thoughts. Instead, she switched mindsets, hoping it would stop the flurry of confusing emotions.

"I...I tried to contact you...a lot. My cell was quickly broken though." She didn't understand why she was telling him all that; how did it help the situation?

The nation paled at the most recent information. Did she say tried to call him...? He'd gotten a new cell during her absence without a second thought... "I always thought I was the hero... but... I caused the Great Depression, y'know, and other stuff..." Shaking his head lightly, he asked," Do you know Lithuania? I mean, well I guess recently that question has taken on a little more meaning, I mean just the country. One of the Baltic States. Russia has done some partitioning- quite a bit of partitioning- including taking control of Lithuania, now I mean the person... And well Lithuania came to live with me during the gilded age and when the Great Depression happened, Russia came to take him back. Liet begged me to not let him be taken away, but I didn't put up a fight. I knew what happened to him, and I didn't put up a fight!"

"So, does this mean you've failed twice?" hands gripping into the fabric of her dress, knuckles turning white, Suki started to choke on her words, in a flurry of both anger and despair. She was home, and for that the woman knew she should be grateful. But her plight was lost, and the scars were permanent. And even, it seemed, her only friend, her boss Alfred, didn't bother much to care than a few 'sorry's.

His breath hitched as she asked that dreadful question, one that had a resounding 'yes' for an answer. It was hardly fair to ask a country a question like that. They all had. They all had made bad moves for their economy, all been forced to something terrible, all been at the mercy of doing what was best for them and perhaps not so much for anyone else involved. One time or another, they all had, but America was still young as far as a country went, and such a helpless position was hard to accept; even the old countries had troubles coming to terms with it now and then.

"So much more," he replied shakily, removing his glasses and trying to cover his incipient tears with the shirtsleeve peeking out from his iconic jacket. Biting his lip, he looked away, trying to find something he could stare at. However, his gaze drifted back to the woman he sat next to, the guilt coursing through him much too painful to ignore.

"N-no, d-don't, please..." What? What was she asking for? Don't what?

_Don't cry_, the little voice inside her head whispered. _You know he never meant harm to you_. And she knew the man well, knew he would never willingly hurt anyone, directly or indirectly, unless they did something to deserve such a thing. It wasn't right for her to blame and accuses him so sharply, as much as she wanted to. "I'm...I'm sorry for saying that..." She tried at first, rubbing her arms to feel the many peppering wounds and scars up her pale flesh. "...I'm just happy I'm home." And that, that indeed was true. Though she wasn't sure if she meant it that way or not, Suki felt her body softly lean over against Alfred's, her eyes filling again with tears. "I'm just happy to be home again."

America didn't know how to respond to this. Had he been her, the very first thing he'd do would be to defect to England just to piss him off. Instead, she was thankful to be home? Back with the man that just got her tortured out of negligence? "I don't know how I could ever make this up to you; I don't think I ever could... I'm so sorry," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her gingerly. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled her hair softly, trying to sooth her at the same time himself. "I'm glad you're home too."

Suki smiled, feeling a few tears of simple, happy joy fall from her eyes. Oh yes, it was so nice to be home, so nice to be back with her...boss? Wh-wha? Though she made little movement in her body, nor a tone in her grateful murmur, Suki daftly realized whom she was getting so...close to; her boss, Mr. Jones. Suddenly, she felt odd, out of place, unsure of herself. Granted, the hug was reassuring and friendly, probably the only thing the man could offer for an apology, but still, he was her boss. And, being who she was, Suki was unable to tell how she could respond. Did she want his hug, his affection?...Yes. But what did he think?

Pulling away slightly, he tried to smile, but it didn't work. He still looked as pained as a second ago, if not more so. Evidently giving up, he buried his face to where her neck adjoined her shoulder. America desperately wished he knew what to say other than repeating how sorry he was. Some tears gathered on his eyelashes, but he refused to let them fall, both because he was supposed to be strong and because it was Suki who deserved to cry. He wasn't the one who'd been savagely beaten and through who knew what kind of psychological abuse.

Suki felt warm within the nation's grasp, his arms wrapped tightly, but not too tight, around her. Granted, she was sore, and her very bones ached and pained her, but...it was worth it. She was home at last, with the one person she could be sure of that cared for her, it seemed, and cared greatly. Slowly, one by one, tears began to fall from her eyes, before her once steady breaths again became pained sobs, her voice sputtering out aimlessly every little thing she could remember that Russia had done to her, both good and bad, feeling that for every word she let past her lips, the lighter and less painful her soul and mind felt. Suki clinged to Alfred, willing him to never be away from her; he felt like a wall, a protection from Ivan that would always keep her safe, boss or not, and the woman craved for that to keep true for a long time to come.

America's cell phone rang abruptly, beeping out an old English tune. Quickly silencing it, he mumbled," It's just England, I'll get it later." He once again pulled away, not bothering to fake a smile, bringing a hand to her cheek and tenderly wiping away tears. He leaned in for a kiss, planting a short one right on her lips, before once again attempting to dry his tears and replacing his glasses back on his face.

Stop. The air suddenly was still.

The young woman trembled against the soft touch of lips, her body feeling so incredibly weak against the other's strong hold around her. It was nothing like Ivan's hugs, even the ones where he was being, in his own way, affectionate. Where his were close, friendly and desiring for comfort, the blondes were warm, and….oddly, though he was touching her much less than Russia had in his odd, childish embraces, felt far more intimate. Suki shook her head for a second, trying to rid herself of the sudden onslaught of odd, random feelings that berated through her body. "N-no," She tried to whisper, voice breaking with every breath as her former work mindset slowly faded back into mental view. "Y-you should answer it. I-it might be important..." She craved his touch, not caring for much more that it would make their relationship nothing but awkward, but she was his secretary as well. She knew how much work there was with being America, and it was almost never an idle thing when another country called him.

Uncertainly, he fished the phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear, flipping it open as it ascended. "Hey, England! Wassup?" He turned his head trying to not pick up the crying into the background of his conversation. Forcing a smile onto his face so he could further pretend nothing was wrong, he waited for the other's response.

"We're calling a world meeting soon; two weeks in bloody France. Of course the whole meeting will probably be held in blooming French," England replied, cursing out 'the bloody frog' for a few seconds. So it was kind of important even if he would be notified through official means later. At least now he had time to brush up on his French.

Suki gulped and held her sobs in for the man's sake, her body pulling out of his soft grasp so he needn't deal with a sobbing mess like her. She slowly pushed her body near the top of the bed, allowing herself to lay down with a pained sigh. "..." it was filled with noise, the air, yet it was silent at the same time. Alfred spoke to Arthur softly over the phone, in hushed tones she couldn't even pick up on.

Finishing the conversation and closing the phone, America sighed. Turning back to Suki with a small smile, he mused," There's a world conference coming up an' poor England's gunna blow a gasket 'cause it's in France." Glancing down to her bandaged ribs, his smile fell. He couldn't do it, forgive himself, or at least take his mind off it for a second.

"Please stop...stop staring..." The girl mewled dismally, feeling the nation's gaze on her body, laying down against the soft sheets of the hotel bed in utter exhaustion. "I know how bad I look already...just...d-don't..." Everything about her had been shattered. Her face was covered in scratches, as were her arms, legs, and chest. One rib still pushed out against the skin of her chest, occasionally making it hard to breath, since it never did heal right, and her leg-god her leg-it was fused wrong, just below the knee, so Suki knew she was going to forever walk with a limp, the bones being slightly off center when they somewhat healed already, though she knew she had months left to go.

Clearing his throat as he averted his gaze, he apologized quietly," S-sorry, I didn't mean t-to st-stare..." What exactly did he do at this point? If he apologized more, he might come off as insincere. He couldn't really justify telling her more about the world conference he just got news of, the last thing she needed or probably wanted was to think about grouping up with more countries. That brought another problem to mind; until Russia, she'd been blissfully unaware of the nation-tans existence. She'd know of a few of them, but had no clue what they were. Now she did.

What the hell could he do now?

The young woman sniffled slightly, letting her body slowly adjust to the soft bed beneath her side. It was painful for her even to lay there, not a single thing proving not to scream or ache in agony. It hurt, all of it. Her bones, her skin, her body entirely. It hurt to breath, and move, and just about anything else that came with the simple fact of existing at all. "...Alfred..." The girl slowly sighed out with light, warm words, eyes merely again filling with wet tears, even though her lids were puffy, red and sore. "M-mr. Jones..." Oh, how she had needed to correct herself so many times. It was pitiful. Coming back as a sobbing mess, and the first thing she does? Act like a pity party for her own boss, her BOSS, not even having the curtsy to call him by the correct title.

He bit his lip more, he'd probably have a sore lip by tomorrow, and hesitantly stood up. Making his way to the one big window of the hotel room, he opened it ajar and said," You should see a doctor. Russia may be too good at treating wounds, but you need professional care." Little relief came from the fresh air like America had hoped, but none the less, he sat in the chair near the window.

It took Suki less than a moment to respond, seemingly her mind already made before he even suggested it. "NO." it was firm, hard, and already decided. She wasn't in any way going to see a doctor, not a chance in hell. "I'm fine, my bones are healed _partially_and it's only bruises and small cuts." The girl frowned, as painful as it was to do so, and rolled her body away from the light of the window, turning slowly to her other side. She didn't intend on having someone poke and prod her with needles and questions, making her remember the origin of each cut, each fracture, each pain. And Suki didn't intend on doing it; she wasn't going.

Looking back at her with intense dismay, he tried to come up with a rebuttal. "Well, still... Y'know, they might get infected or something," He fought back weakly, but then sighed. He didn't have the endurance to fight this battle. "Well, anyways, I'll find someone else to join me for the world conference, I couldn't drag you into it after... uh, I dunno, everything?"

"N-no!" The young girl felt her body shudder in pain at her grown voice, eyes quivering along with her lips. "I-I have to go. It's my j-job..." Though she'd rather go through hell again than see a doctor, the young woman knew her duties. She swore to do all she could for the job, swore so on the bible, to the president himself even! She couldn't simply give up, as much as it hurt, but had to make sure that she did her duties. "I can wa-walk, and I can write, so I'm going to that meeting..." She wasn't going to roll over and die, well, not die, but feel like it.

"But, dude, it's like being a bodyguard! Once you get shot, you can't go back. Anyone who watches movies know that," he insisted, almost falling off his chair as he immediately leaned towards her to the point of barely using the chair. Standing up and closing the distance between them in one fluid motion he continued," Please, reconsider. I mean it's gonna be boring anyways, it's in French. You took... one of the many languages that isn't French and that I can't quite remember right now- in school right?" Was it Chinese? Spanish? America kinda forgot which one she knew.

"I know Spanish, and...R-Russian..." She whispered, seemingly having issues announcing the other. Well, not fluent Russian, more forced than anything else in this world. In the few months she spent in that country, that was really all that was spoken. Only when he was merciful did Ivan decide to use English, for her sake, and usually, it was only because he was angry, or paranoid. "I know French too, really; I just…." She sighed and pulled the blanket painfully over her body, willing for it's warmth to take away the pain. "I don't want to be away from you again, sir. I'm...afraid." Maybe it was an excuse, a sad, silly excuse from a frightened childlike wish, but it was honest. Suki couldn't even breath without wondering, wondering what Russia will do now that she was back home. Will he come and find her? Did he know where she was staying, where she lived?

Would he try to take her away again?

America stood in silence for a few moments as he stared upon her form, his mind wandering into an eerily similar time in his own younger days.

_"B-but England!" he called out loudly, tears overflowing his eyes," I don't want you ta' go away again! What if you don't come back!"_

"Come now, lad, you know I'll come back."

"But I don't wanna be alone," he said, fearful that the other might never come back like he said.

"Ah- Y-yeah, okay," he responded, understanding.

Suki sniffled once more, and then fell silent against the still air. Her body shuffled lightly against the stiff sheets before she began to speak again. "I'm...I'm sorry, Mr. Jones," her voice whispered slowly, mind moving in an unsure, hesitant fashion. "I didn't mean...to cause so much trouble."

"No, you didn't cause any trouble, this is all my fault!" He quickly said, ruffling his hair with a sigh. Sitting down beside her, he exhaled again, whispering," This is all my fault." America leaned over her pained body and kissed her temple gingerly. "I should be leaving. You're probably tired from your long trip."

"N-no; not tired," the girl cried lightly, voice between a whisper and a pained declaration. She weakly grabbed Alfred's closest hand, clasping it gently within her palms as she spoke. "I've been tired for weeks n-now. I've...Ive missed the states, my home..." she quieted for a moment, trying to weave her weak, cut fingers with his. "...you."

Smiling warmly, Alfred cupped their interlocked hands with his free one. "I can stay a while," he said. America laid down beside her and closed his eyes. "... C-can you forgive me?" He asked quietly, his voice breaking with guilt.

Suki breathed lightly, her bandaged chest heaving in and out with small, raspy little breaths. She looked at their hands, then at his face, and back and forth for a few seconds. What was she supposed to say to him? She hesitated, but spoke before her mind could catch up to her lips. "O-of course, Mr. J-Jones..." She whispered, barely able to tighten her grip with his hand. "I-I'm angry, b-but not at you...I-I'm just happy to be h-home..."

Relief flowed through him. He would probably never forgive himself, but at least she had no ill will directed at him. "You can call me Alfred if you want, or Al, or whatever really, I dun' care," He said offhandedly, he was just glad that she didn't hate him. Besides, he called her Suki by her first name all the time. Actually he had to work to recall her last name, rarely having referred to her by it after just the fifth day of her working for him. Some called it rude; he called it friendly and informal.

The young woman let her lips twitch into a warm, happy smile. The first in months, she mused, mouth almost seeming to protest against such an action. "…kay." She could feel the warmth of his palm, gloved, but still exerting heat through his thin leather glove. It was like a candle right next to her hand, basking every finger with it's warm, soft, and heated glow. Every curve of her palm fit against his, like a soft, malleable puzzle piece, and the woman had little will to remove it. It was enjoyable to feel Alfred's hand against hers, and she was far too tired to protest about the formality, the properness of it all. "...I'm happy to see you again, Alfred. I missed you..."

He nuzzled her hair so she couldn't see his guilt ridden face. He'd completely forgotten about her during her stay in Russia. It wasn't that he didn't care, he'd just been busy and she hadn't really been in his life. Out of sight, out of mind. "You don't know how much I missed you," He replied softly, just above her ear. It was a lie; well, half of one. He did miss her, and god did the man feel guilty. He just…his guilt grew stronger the more he realized that he had utterly forgotten about his secretary, brushing off her absence with little more thought than he would about what the weather was.

"Thanks, Alfred," the young woman spoke, shyly letting her body move closer to his. She could feel his heat, oh the glorious body heat he had! It was amazing to feel once again, after having dealt with the bitter cold for so long in such an unfamiliar land. "You're so warm..." she found herself whispering, dying and yearning to be closer, to feel more of that warm, inviting heat, but her sense of social politeness, which she was already breaking so strongly (bluntly, she was laying right against her boss), held the young woman from doing so.

Smiling, America squeezed her hand lightly. "I'll be here long as you need me," he murmured, hoping she truly knew how much he meant it. He was there for her.

The only tragic thing, one he could share, was he _couldn't_ let this affect his relations with Russia. The last thing this world needed was a second cold war. Or worse, a WWIII.

Still, he'd do whatever he could to help Suki. Make up for the terrible neglect that had led to her torture.

Beside him, the small form smiled. "Thanks..." She said, slowly, her eyes starting to droop as the woman hesitantly laid her head against his chest. It was odd, it was weird. She was a secretary, and he was her boss. Yet...after all that had occurred, Suki neither cared, or bother to think of it for all that mattered. If she tried, she knew it would only make things awkward and socially depressing. But, but Alfred was more than a boss; he also...felt like a friend. Sad as it was to say, he was the only person Suki could call a friend, after moving from her home back in the Midwest.

For the entirety of her sleep, Suki clung to her boss, her only and closest friend. Visions of dancing, smiling sunflowers twirled in her vision, bobbing and swaying with some unknown, eerie beat. The words sang softly through the air, like a dark lullaby trying to sooth the girl, who could only sit within the fields of golden yellow and listen to their tune. At first it was utterly frightening, the small woman wanting nothing more than to wake up, rid herself of the fears that her mind was supplying her with, grotesque memories twisting into the odd string of seemingly innocent visions and thoughts, as hollow and fake as Russia's smile when he was angry.

Russia….

Suddenly the red-head felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, and with a swiftly turned head, her blue eyes met purple ones, gazing softly at her. The soft, childlike face of Russia was only a few inches from her own, his smile odd, wide, and-

-entirely sincere. It didn't frighten her, it didn't make her tremble in pain. And that was all he did, that was it. He continued to smile so close to her, for as long as eternity could last, until the visions slowly died away, smoothing into the soft blackness of an even deeper slumber, this time, less troubled than before.

But that smile never left her memory, imprinting like a photo behind her sleeping lids.


End file.
